Heroes & Lightcycles
by Auramyuu
Summary: That was the last Alfred saw of his Father.      Follows TRON: Legacy Review is loved!
1. PROLOGUE

It was amazing. Arthur Kirkland was abducted /into/ a computer.

Just to think! He'd worked for ENCOM as a simple employee and arcade owner, before this incident. However, things weren't going well. He just… /Knew/ that the Russian executive above him stole four video games that he 'created'. Arthur knew that Braginski was a crook. Something was just… Strange about that man.

In attempt to prove his accusations, he attempted to hack into the computer, however, Braginski's 'Master Control Program' stopped him every time…

One night, Arthur's old girlfriend, Elizaveta and her new boy friend, a Japanese man named Kiku decided to help him. They assisted, and successfully broke into ENCOM and attempted to shut down the MCP with Kiku's security program, TRON.

In a last attempt to stop the hacker, the MCP used Elizaveta's matter transmission program, converts the Briton into data, and pulls him into the computer, where there is an electronic world, under the dictatorship of MCP…

The only way out was through TRON's help.

"Dad! You're home!", the little blonde boy practically squealed as he bounded from the bed to hug his father. "Alfred, you should be in bed right now!", Arthur laughed. He couldn't be mad, now. Not after his ordeal, and that bright face looking at him. Arthur scooped his son up and nuzzled Alfred's cheek, yielding a giggle.

"I wanted to wait up for you! You always tell me a story, Daddy!", Alfred chirped as Arthur carried him back. The Brit tucked the boy in, "A story is what you want, hm…?", "Yes, please! Not from a book, I want you to tell me a story. One of /your/ stories!" Arthur laid his boy down, "My stories?", he grinned, tucking Alfred in, "And what's so special about my stories?", "They're special because /you/ made them. 3"

Well… How could Arthur resist giving in with an answer like that? "Alright love, one story, then off to bed…", he said with a smile, petting his son's hair.

"Alright, I'll tell you a special story. One far different forms any I've ever told you." Alfred's eyes widened, nodding. Arthur proceeded to tell him all of the magical events that had happened, assuring it was real in his tone. Alfred believed every word… It was as if he'd seen it himself! Arthur just had a way with telling stories.

"Then, just like that! I was out! All thanks to TRON."

"Dad, can I go see the grid one day with you? And meet Tron?", Alfred asked, eyes bright. "Of course, it's safe there, Clu keeps everything in check. He's made it… Perfect.", Arthur answered with an almost… Dreamy sound. He was very proud of his program. Arthur looked down at the boy, seeing obvious satisfaction in the boy's smile. "Can we spend time together tomorrow?", "Of course! We'll go to the arcade bright and early." The Briton took his son's hand, placing a quarter in Alfred's palm. "First round's on me, lad."

With that he headed to the door before hearing the little blue eyed boy speak up again. "Hey Daddy?", Arthur turned back, "Can we play on the same team?", Arthur smiled back, "We always are on the same team." Then his pager went off. Arthur looked at it and frowned a little, "I have to go. But I promise, I'll be here first thing in the morning to take you to the arcade", then he left.

That was the last Alfred saw of his Father.


	2. No One Carries A Pager Anymore

The news is plagued with news for days, and as a child, Alfred is disgusted. His father's leaving the family is just some… Piece of publicity? No. It was difficult to cope… Didn't Arthur love him…?

-12 YEARS LATER-

Alfred had reached the wonderful age of 19. And! He had changed his last name. Why be a 'Kirkland' when your dad didn't even remember you right? Jones! Now that was a good name. Alfred F. Jones. It made him feel more heroic! Not so forgotten.

Sure, it was his place to own ENCOM, but Alfred really didn't care. There were only a few things on his mind: clubs, his dog, babes, and… well. Pranking his company every now and then. 3

He was the rightful owner, he could do what he pleased with ENCOM, even if it… Was the wrong thing? To just let Ivan run it.

Kiku frowned at what ENCOM had become. Ivan was doing what his father did… Whatever it took to make a quick buck. It wasn't right! He knew that if Alfred stopped what he was doing, then his life would be set. The 19 year old wasn't going to college; he was sitting around, playing video games, and spending time with his scruffy little mutt-dog.

However, Alfred wasn't stupid. He was just like his faster; a keen programmer and hacker. Otherwise, how would he be able to replace presentations with crummy videos of his dog, trees, and strippers?

Then, one day… The Japanese man discovered a strange development:

His pager went off. Kiku picked it up, brows furrowed in confusion… It was Arthur.

Kiku decided to have a word with Alfred, so he dropped by the boy's home: a rugged little apartment, that typically looked like tornado blew through it. He knocked at the door only to be greeted with squeaky little barks from Alfred's dog, followed by a voice calling, "Door's open!"

Kiku walked in, the dog seeming happy to see him as it hopped up, whining to be pet. Kiku obliged by petting the scruffy black and white mongrel's ears. Alfred paused his game, and laughed, "Down, Superman! Down, boy!", and with that, the dog sat down, highly obedient, he practically bounded in bed, "Good boy!", he praised before turning to his guest, "Honda, my man! How have you been?"

"It is nice to see you, too, Alfred", Kiku said, softly. "You should know the minor key point of why I've come to visit you. I'm here to talk." Minor? No, when Kiku came for a visit, he usually came to talk to him about ENCOM.

Alfred quirked an eyebrow, "Go on with it, then.", he said, passing Kiku a mysterious drink. The Japanese man subtly sniffed it. Coka-Cola.

"You know… Rather than releasing ENCOM's material to the public, you could take over and call the shots." Alfred was quiet as he listened, though he made it apparent that he was uninterested, by flopping backwards on the couch and resting his chin against his fist. Kiku let out a soft chuckle, "Alfred, you're acting like a child…", he sipped at the carbonated soda, "It's what your father would've wanted, Alfred."

The blonde frowned, "Dad didn't want anything to do with me. That's why he left…", Alfred mumbled, looking away, "He was in hysterics on the night he left, talking about a virtual world with characters I barely remember." Kiku moved closer and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Alfred, he wouldn't have just left you… I was with him that night. With Arthur. That story was about… TRON and MCP, wasn't it?" Alfred stiffened, and adjusted his glasses, "How do you know…?"

Kiku smiled, "Alfred F. Jones, I have some news you may be interested in." Now he had Alfred's full attention. "I got a message last night", he said holding up a small black square. , "A pager…?", Alfred snorted loudly, as he let out a giggle. "Laugh all you want, but Arthur told me to sleep with this. I still do.", "You got a message? Who still carries around a /pager/?", "Your father apparently. "

Alfred grew quiet, "It came from Kirkland's Arcade. I think you should go." Alfred blinked, why on Earth… "What makes you think /I/ should go? He didn't message me.", "Alfred you don't carry a pager…", Kiku said, kneeling to look the boy in the eyes, "Arthur adored you more than anyone else in the world, I think you should be the first to see him.

Alfred gave a little smile, though in his eyes, it was clear he thought this was all bullshit.

"You act like I'll see him sitting there at work with a big smile… Like… He'd turn to me and say… 'Ello, lad. What took you?' When we all know-", Kiku cut Alfred off, "You may be surprised. Tell you what. I'll shut up about ENCOM if you go. No more pressure to take it over."

"Deal."


	3. Dad's Arcade

Well, if it would get Kiku off his back…

Alfred suited up and headed out to his bike, pulled on his helmet, and he was off. The arcade now stood at… A not so good part of town. Far different than when he was growing up. When he was younger, that particular area in town was bustling with activity, shops, and the arcade was full every day. Crowds of kids would come, quarters raining from their pockets, just to get a round at their favorite games.

He pulled up, parking his bike before digging in his pocket. 'Dammit, where did it…? Ah.', he thought as he finally plucked a ring of keys from his pockets. The blonde man looked up at the red sign reading: KIRKLAND'S… It hadn't been lit in ages, and yet… The words were still legible, and not in too bad of codition aside from needing replacements.

Heaving a sigh, he approached the heavy doors; unlocked them, and creaked open an entrance that hadn't seen human life in over ten years.

All of the systems were… Well… Covered. As if it would help much with changing temperatures, but it helped with dust control, right? That's how Alfred saw it, anyway. The teen quietly moved to the breaker, and toggled some switches, grinning to himself when the machines lit up and the records started playing.

Loudly, over the above speakers was some song that rang all too familiar to the American due to those damn Internet memes… He was being Rick Rolled in real life. Oh well… He didn't seem to care as he moved along the machines.

Pac Man, Donkey Kong, Street Fighter, Mega Man, Contra…

Nothing really stood out, this place was empty.

But… Then something caught his eye. A glorified system, the game his dear old dad was most proud of: TRON. It only made sense; it was an ENCOM game, wasn't it?

Alfred smiled a little sadly as he uncovered the machine, then plucked a quarter from his pocket in quiet hopes that maybe his dad was watching him, or that he was playing to win Arthur's return. A bit optimistic, but, that's how he was. He really missed his dad despite not acting like it. He just… He was going to play for his dad. Arthur wasn't there, Arthur wasn't going to be there.

"This is for you, dad…", he said softly, slipping the quarter into the slot. To his surprise, the machine didn't take the coin, instead, it was dropped to the floor. The blonde frowned. "Hey! That's good American currency!", he scolded the machine, as if it could hear him.

He knelt down, "You know how many kids in Africa would kill for-…", he paused, noticing grooves in the floor. He quietly felt them and followed the trail. It was like… A heavy door or something, but the marks lead straight to. To…

TRON.

Alfred stood up and felt behind it, and… there was most definitely a door.

Good thing he was strong. He pushed the heavy machine along the markings, and opened the mysterious door. The path was pitch black, so Alfred simply whipped out his good old cell phone. Stairs. A light switch that probably didn't work. And good railing along the wall that was probably still sturdy.

He held the rails and started down, holding up his cell phone to see, "Hello?", the blonde called cautiously. This all seemed like a situation from a horror film! But Alfred persisted, knowing he could handle any dangers down there. Unless it was a ghost.

He came up to a door at the bottom of the steps, and opened it only to find a studio where Arthur probably did most of his programming and hacking. Alfred felt himself smile a bit. Scattered plans, a few papers tacked to the wall with one titled: "THE SECRET OF THE GRID".

It was amazing…!

Arthur had hi own computer, it was large, but still a brick by all means, and the keyboard was big and bulky, not sleek or anything like technology had come to be.

It was all covered in a thick layer of dust.

Alfred seemed a bit nostalgic as he let out a chuckle, "Well damn. I may be a bit rusty at this."

He sat at the chair, brushing the dust from the screen, only to be greeted with a thick layer of dust on his sleeve, "Yuck…!", oh well… he took a deep breath and blew most of the dust from the keyboard, flinching backward when some of the dust blew back in his face. "Ack!", he squirmed, nearly falling from his chair before pouting miserably at the system. "Dude! Not cool!"

It was his own fault, really…

The disgruntled American cleaned his glasses with his shirt only after pressing the power button on the monitor, only to be met with a blue loading screen. "Whoa! You still work, huh…? Well.", he slid his glasses on, "Lets see what Dad left behind…"

The screen went black, only in the top left hand corner was a "WELCOME".

Alfred hummed, "So you interact, hm?", he then typed in, "whoami", without spaces.

It took a moment for the computer to register before typing: "KIRKLAND"

Alfred frowned, "Of course… Not… Anymore.", he sighed, beginning to probe the system. However… The blonde didn't notice another artifact in the corner…

A matter transmission program.

And it had been activated.

Alfred was targeted, and he only saw a bright flash before everything… Changed.

**-AUTHORS' NOTES-**

**Sorry, but... I really didn't think a touch screen was appropriate. :\**

**Other than that, keep the reviews coming! I feel all warm and fluffy when I read them. They help me carry on the story. c: 3**


	4. Preparation To Survive

Then… Everything changed.

Alfred found himself gaping as he looked around. Instead of being a pale yellow from the sun that beamed in through a small window that only shown people's feet that walked by, everything seemed black, with a blue glow… "I-I could've sworn the sun was out just a moment ago…", he mumbled, skeptically.

He made his way out quickly, practically bursting through the arcade doors before looking around. The buildings were large and black , with strange outlines of bright blue coloured neon. The street seemed oddly reflective as if it had just rained but…

It was beautiful, but scary.

Just as he assumed to want to explore the area, a blinding white light shown from above. The American instantly halted and looked up, while also trying to shade his eyes from the light. It only took a moment for him to focus and see what had him under a spotlight, and the only thing that registered was 'Big scary thing'. When Alfred turned to run away, he saw that the ground was falling away and there was no means to escape.

The middle of the strange object lowered and two men dressed in black, with strange orange neon patterns adorning their suits grabbed his arms. One spoke: "Identification", Alfred attempted fighting against him, "H-hey! Let go!", "Identification: Error", the other one responded, before they both dragged the American boy to the center lift where they strapped him in a cuff hooking his feet to one spot.

Alfred took a moment to look at the others whom had been imprisoned: there were seven others. One man caught his eye. He was dark complexioned, an was muttering franticly. Whatever was going on, Alfred felt as though he wouldn't like it… But he figured that he'd get some sort of input on the situation. He nudged the male next to him that separated himself from the muttering man. "Hey…! Dude. What's his problem?", he whispered softly. The pale man turned, only then, Alfred got to see him clearly.

Past his nose, his eye, along with that part of his head was missing, but there was no blood. No, it looked as if metal chips held him together. He looked like an injured android from a movie or something.

Alfred flinched back at the sight and cleared his throat, "Uhh… Sorry, man."

The ride was sort lived as it landed on rather glossy, slick pavement, and the middle lowered. The guards started observing the men, briefly, just like a scan. Alfred paid no attention to the classifications given, rather, he didn't know what they were saying as he was just trying to explain himself, for… Not doing anything.

"Hey, man, I know you probably get this a lot, but…", and he was cut off by the guard's classification: "GAMES."

By now, the panicked man was really freaking out, "Games? No, no! I can't be in games! Don't put me in games!", and with that, he took off, the guards tried to give chase, but the man dove off into a pit where there were sharp fans, and killed himself. Alfred's eyes widened at the sight before he was roughly dragged off.

How could they simply dismiss that? A man just died to get away from 'games'… What were these games and why the hell were they so bad?

Alfred was moved to a platform which carried him down to a new room. He only got a short chance to figure out his surroundings when people emerged from capsules. They were all Asian.

It seemed the leader of them was… was… He couldn't tell exactly. Sure, it looked feminine enough, but 'she' had no breasts. The lead's hair was pulled into a side ponytail and the other's hair were down. There was on, no doubtably female. She had breasts, long hair adorned with a pink flower. And the other two were men, without a doubt.

They Asians circled him and, well, Alfred thought these were going to be sexy games, until their fingers lit up, and made him regret the though, by burning the seams from his clothing, "H-hey! You could ask…!", he pouted, "These were new…"

They moved not far from him before placing something over his shoulders, yielding a uniform to materialize over his body. "Wh-whoa…"

A voice sounded over the speakers in the room, "Attention, Program. You will receive, an identity disc. Everything you do, or learn, will be imprinted on this disc. If you, lose your disc, or fail, to follow commands, you will be subject to immediate de-resolution..."

The pretty, genderless one held what looked like a disc with the center cut out, it was thick, and looked fairly dense and difficult to break. Two of the other's turned him around, one tall, wearing digitized glasses, and the other, somewhat short, but sporting thick eyebrows like Arthur. The one with the ponytail hooked the disc into Alfred's back and for a short moment, Alfred felt his body spark in a refreshing, new way.

The American's eyes lit up for a split second before the same blue coloured lines appeared on the body suit and disc. "Objection complete, disc activated and syncronized, proceed to games, aru." Alfred blinked, the voice snapping him out of his daze. "W-wait…! Games? What games…?", he questioned. The Asians started backing away. The one with the strange tic stopping before entering his pod. "You seem… different in not knowing what to do…", Alfred frowned, "What am I supposed to do…?", he questioned, hoping for an answer as this man seemed to be the only one who would answer him back.

"Survive, aru.", he said, stepping into his pod and seemingly… Going to sleep.

**-AUTHORS NOTES-**

**Okay! Sorry that took so long. I've been preparing for a test and whatnot, So I wrote a little each day. For those unclear on the Sirens, they were: China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Thailand. –They all speak Chinese.**

**Remember to review and make me a happy writer~!**


	5. But, He Has TWO Discs!

The wall seemingly opened into a whole new room.

The American felt… Drawn to that room, it seemed as if it would be wrong to stay with those sleeping Asians. Curious as Alfred was, he stepped out. The wall closed, and Alfred realized how small of a space he was in, he turned, touching at the wall, trying to figure out an escape and regretting his curiosity.

Everything was dark for only a moment. Then, the room moved and the darkness was gone. There was light, everywhere, blue neon against a dark background, and… It was as if he was in a large, clear plastic box. Upon further investigation, his box was hovering, and all around was more clearly plastic boxes, with people wearing similar outfits.

They seemed to be in the center of a large stadium, filled with cheering people, and really… This wasn't very reassuring.

He frowned in concern, "Somehow… I doubt they're here to watch us get out of these boxes…", and oh how right he was. A form appeared at the other end of his box, in a similar uniform to his, yet very different. Instead of being lined with glowing blue, this person was sporting black lined with a yellow-orange glow.

"Hey…", he pointed cluelessly at the challenger, "You look like one of the guys from my dad's stories!"

Almost instantly, the man withdrew his disc in an aggressive manner, making Alfred regret speaking to him. The challenger through the disc aiming for the poor, clueless boy, and Alfred dove, not wanting to get hit.

He glanced off to the side noticing a poor soul who did get hit, blasting into goop that dissolved to nothing. "OH HELL NO."

The disc bounced back to the challenger and Alfred scrambled to his feet, reaching back and withdrawing his own disc, "Alright! You wanna fight?" Alfred threw his own disc, watching in awe as the other man flipped out of the way and throw his own disc. Their fighting styles were very different; This man, throwing precisely, jumping and leaning gracefully out of the way… And Alfred throwing with half aim, diving and flopping about to get away…

The disc returned, and Alfred caught it. "Shit!", he cursed aloud, both from frustration, and the force in which it hit his hand.

The man ran up, and Alfred threw his disc straight down, it bounced up, and forcefully came down and derezzed his opponent.

"Heh! I won!", he said in a prideful manner. Only to have his hopes shot down by a new opponent appearing. "Another one…?"

Alfred didn't have much time before this one attacked, repeating the action that caused his last opponent to lose, however, Alfred was a bit smarter than the last guy, squirming out of the way. Unfortunately, it broke the floor Alfred stood on, making him nearly fall to his doom. "Shitshitshit!", he scrambled up in a panicked manner and threw the disc at the new challenger, now making more precise throws, but, missing still.

Alfred had to think fast, this one was tougher than the last, and he was breaking the floor away!

He narrowed his eyes, throwing the disc with a spin, but aiming for a sidewall. Thinking Alfred had made a mistake, the man smirked, but didn't have time to think, as it ricocheted off the wall, and derezzed him.

Alfred wasn't taking any chances. He caught his disc, and broke through the floor with his weapon, managing to land on another box. He ignored the warnings of a voice over speakers and the roar of the crowd, he wanted out.

However such wasn't so easy, as he fell through the top of the box. "Agh!", he winced standing. Before him, stood a new challenger. This one was kind of short, sporting a darker orange glow than the rest. He saw the face for a split moment before a helmet formed over his head. He looked like a younger… "K-Kiku…?"

However, the challenger didn't respond. He pulled his disc and separated it, now having the advantage of two discs. "You've /got/ to be kidding me…!", Alfred said, slightly panicked. He'd realized that, when in this box, there was no use trying to talk to whomever was there with him, so there was no chance to reason with this man. He tugged and fingered at his disc quickly, trying to make two discs, but failing.

The challenger charged, "Wait! Wait! Wait! This isn't fair, you have two!"

He didn't stop though, and Alfred was forced to to block the discs with just one, as if he was in a fistfight. However, this was a challenge that Alfred felt weak in. This man was extremely fast and he was strong. He tried falling back and jabbing, but missed. When the challenger backed off, he threw his disc, and missed. Just when he felt he had the upper hand… Gravity hit zero, and Alfred's back hit the ceiling., the challenger landed on his feet and bowed his arms back, readying to strike down.

Alfred managed to block in time, both hands on his single disc. He swung at the fighter's feet, missed, then gravity returned to normal and he landed on his front, "G-gah!", he coughed, accidentally cutting his cheek with his own disc when he hit the surface.

The challenger approached, ready to finish him when he saw a spot of blood.

He stopped instantly, "User…", he breathed, before pulling the American up.

Whoever was in charge of this set up was displeased, but slightly troubled. Apparently, this man was a lapdog, obedient to the man whom had arranged this violent game. A deep voice echoed over the speakers: "Program, Identify yourself."

The stadium grew quiet.

"I'm not a program! My name is: Alfred F. Jones, formerly Alfred F. Kirkland!"

Then it was bustling with murmurs. "The games are over for tonight." Then, the challenger assisted the American off. Out of the container and into a hall. He didn't speak… It was as if he was a robot or something. And by now, the American was rather angry.

He was brought into a strange chamber where six men stood. Four were guards, one was behind a desk, he was stern looking, but it seemed the one in charge was gazing out of a large window.

Alfred broke away from his escort whom had previously tried to kill him and stomped toward the man. "Alright, I demand to know what's going on! Who are you?", he barked. The man turned toward him and his helmet dematerialized. He had blonde hair, green eyes, and bushy eye brows, and… "Dad…?", he questioned, his tone instantly softening.

"Alfred… Look at you… You're rather big, lad…", the Briton said warmly, yet… His smile seemed slightly… Twisted. "I got your message…", Alfred mumbled, unsurely. After all he had felt abandoned… "Message?", "Yeah, you paged Kiku", "Ah, that message… So it's only you…?", he questioned, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Yeah…", "Mm. Just you…", the Englishman began circling and surveying the boy, who… Couldn't take his eyes off of him. "Something wrong…? You're staring, lad", he questioned. Alfred frowned even deeper, "You haven't aged a single day…", Alfred answered. "Oh, but a lot has happened, my boy, more than you can imagine…~", he coaxed in a soothing, yet alarming tone. He plucked the disc from Alfred's back. "Mm, so this is it, hm?", he questioned, as the disc activated, playing all of the younger male's memories., "I expected more."

Alfred felt strange… This man seemed very disinterested in him, and he was his son! "You were trapped in here, huh? This is where you've been?" The man blinked up from the disc, "Mm? Oh. Yes. That's right, trapped…", he felt himself inwardly smirking. "So, we can go home, right?", "Yes… And no", he smirked. "I go home, however…. You won't be joining me, Alfred." Alfred blinked, "W-wait, what? That's a hell of a way to treat your son…", the American mumbled, feeling hurt. The man patted the disc back into place and snorted, "Oh… /That/…" He moved closer, a bit too close for comfort.

"I'm not your father, Alfred… But I'm very pleased to see you."

Alfred flinched.

He wasn't Arthur? "Wh-what did you do with my Dad?", he questioned, defensively. The man backed up and snapped his fingers. Two of the gaurds grabbed Alfred's arms, holding him in place. "The same thing that I'm going to you", He snapped his fingers, "Let's see how well you hold up on the grid! Take him away!"

And with that, the flailing American was dragged out and taken to a new place.

This place was very loathsome.

**-AUTHORS NOTES-**

**This time. I couldn't write on it. I almost had this chapter ready to submit, when my laptop charger died. I was planning to release Chapter five and six, but it didn't happen. Sorry. I have issues writing fight scenes, so I'm in a difficult time…**

**Also…**

**I hope you like Americest/AmeCan. 3**

**Remember to review and make me a happy writer~!**


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